


The Ghost Next Door

by Ditalia



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M, Marta hears Benoit singing, Slow Build, Slow Burn, walls are thin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23574286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ditalia/pseuds/Ditalia
Summary: Marta and Alice share an apartment with very thin walls. During one of her morning showers, Marta hears her neighbor singing.
Relationships: Benoit Blanc/Marta Cabrera
Comments: 9
Kudos: 73





	The Ghost Next Door

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I originally started off this story as a nice, clean one-shot that was supposed to be maybe a 1,000 words or a little more. Instead I spent the next several days pouring over this almost 4,000 word monstrosity; and its still not finished. I've got some more ideas for this that I want to play around with, but I also wanted to post what I had first. So enjoy? I guess. Also if anyone has a better name for this story please let me know, because I have no clue.

Watching the paramedics wheel away her neighbor’s dead body hadn’t been how Marta expected her morning to go, yet now she found herself leaning against her doorframe numbly answering questions for the two officers who explained they were just going through standard procedure as she had been the one to discover him. 

The walls of her apartment were thin and so when the usual scuffle of her neighbor’s morning routine had failed to present itself she had gone to check on him; yet instead of finding the older man alive and if not well, at least in a passably decent mood, she had found him dead in his sleep. Everything afterwards seemed to be a blur, but the police and ambulance had arrived about fifteen minutes later and she found herself being gently dragged away from his body. 

As she stood answering the two men, Marta’s attention was captured by a man dressed in a hazmat suit entering her friend's apartment or what had been his apartment. The eerie silence of the morning accompanied by the flashing lights near her window making her head swirl in shock. Lieutenant Elliott and Trooper Wagner, as they had called themselves, helped the poor girl onto her couch as she paled slightly. Her mouth went dry, tongue scraping against her lips as she answered the officer’s questions and offering her phone number to them. Elliott pursed his lips, his brows furrowed as kind dark eyes stared at her. His gentle voice thanked her for her time as he handed her his card in case she had anything else to tell them. Trooper Wagner stood following his partner before turning back to the girl on the sofa. 

“We’re sorry for your loss.” The words dangled decoratively and insufficiently in the air as he turned away.

It was an hour later before she was pulled from her musings by her sister, Alice, coming home from school. The card the Lieutenant had left still clutched numbly between her fingers. Alice called in work for her, telling them she was unable to work the rest of the week because of an emergency. While they weren’t pleased no one could withstand Alicia Cabrera’s will. If her sister wanted something she would get it, one way or another. 

Alice looked into Marta’s eyes, helping her sister up and back into bed and that was where she had stayed.

***

Admittedly, Marta felt like a rubber band that had been stretched too far; still able to snap back but never in the same shape it had been before. 

After the first few days the shock had begun to wear off giving way to a hollow feeling. Bone deep tiredness and a strange sensation of guilt wracked her body and mind. Now, it had been a full week since her friend’s passing, the funeral come and gone. It had been a closed affair, his family not allowing any “outsiders” into the procession and so Marta had stayed home the day of his funeral. 

After they left, Marta had been the one to pick up the pieces. It was clear his family was not close to one another and though she and Harlan had spoken of them in passing she hadn’t realized how estranged his family was until she had met them during the funeral preparations. They had gone their separate ways afterwards, each scattered across the country in their own form of business and trade. When she had tried to contact them about the man’s belongings they either didn’t answer or wanted nothing to do with it. One email she had received actually stated to, “…throw all his damn things away…”. 

So this was where Marta found herself now, standing in the middle of Harlan Thrombey’s apartment. The stillness of it all and the familiar smell of him casting her back to the day she had found him, and his keys jingled to the floor in a sharp thunk, falling out of her paralyzed fingers. Marta’s breath hitched slightly as unshed tears itched the corners of her eyes. She scooped down to pick up the keys while viscously swiping at her face. The Landlord had brought up several boxes for her to pack things up into, whether to be donated or kept was up to her. 

She spent several hours there, separating and sorting through his belongings. The organized chaos, as she had called his home multiple times, turned out to be a hard thing to sift through; yet it offered her some sort of closure she had not been able to receive. 

For weeks she spent the whole of her time clearing out each room. Some days by herself and other days Alice would help. And some days the grief would pull her back down and nothing would get done; but now, after what felt like forever she found herself sitting amongst piles of boxes in Harlan’s living room. The blinds pulled up to allow the afternoon light to pierce through the small room. She watched as millions of motes of dust floated lazily around the space, hiding behind boxes and swirling with each quiet exhale of her breath. The tiny particles brilliantly illuminated by the golden rays of the sun. The room smelled of honeyed tea and paper and Marta smiled as she looked around the empty space. It was the first time she had truly felt at peace since her friend’s passing and now, as she looked around she realized with a sense of clarity that he really was gone. No tears stung her eyes nor did she feel her throat begin to tighten in its usual manner. Instead her fingers gently traced the warm, red letters on what had been Harlan’s favorite mug. My house. My rules. My coffee. She knew that today was just a good day and that there would still be bad days to come, but for now she was content to drink her tea and enjoy the quiet.

***

Almost five months after the passing of Harlan Thrombey, Marta returned home late from her shift at the hospital to see her sister pressing an ear to the wall. 

“What are you doing?” She would have laughed if it weren’t for the strange look in her sister’s eyes. All Alice did was wave her over and press her finger to her mouth. Marta followed her and listened intently to the wall and suddenly she heard it, footsteps on the other side, slow and heavy. She pulled away as a chill ran down her spine. Alice began to move towards the kitchen smiling slightly as she looked at her sister. 

“Do you think its Mr. Thrombey’s ghost?” She giggled slightly and Marta rolled her eyes choosing to ignore the quip. Though as a suspicious Cuban-American her mother’s ghost stories still haunted her, she didn’t believe the shuffling to be her friend’s ghost; yet she did wonder who was there. 

“Who is it?” She asked and Alice shrugged turning towards the kitchen to ransack the fridge. 

“You were here all day!” Marta said incredulously as she jumped off the couch grabbing a spoon and swiping some of her roommate’s ice cream from her. 

“Hey! That’s mine! And while that may be true, I have better things to do that snoop on people.” She stated, her nose upturned slightly. 

“Yeah, like what?” Marta asked, a smile tugging at her lips as her sister twirled away, “You were talking to that one officer again, weren’t you?!” 

“No!” Alice’s eyes growing wide in feigned shock before quickly melting into a shy smile, “Ok, fine, maybe.”

“I knew it!”

“Cállate.” She grumbled and Marta laughed. 

“Come on, what happened.” 

“Nothing, I just happened to run into him at the store.” She stated attempting nonchalance as Marta tried to swipe at her sister’s pint of ice cream again, “Which is where I bought this with MY money, if you want some you can buy some yourself.” 

Marta rolled her eyes and set her spoon down, “What did you guys talk about?” She asked and Alice blushed slightly. 

“We just talked about some of the same movies we like.” The words shy yet happy as her sister smiled and Marta was glad to see her sister this way. 

“Maybe you can invite him over for a movie night sometime,” She admitted, “besides, chances are I won’t be here anyway, they’re upping my shifts at work.” Marta sighed as she felt the tiredness of the day slowly beginning to sink into her. 

“I’m sorry, Marta.” Alice grabbed the pint of chocolate ice cream and presented it to her sister as a peace offering, “You still want some?” 

“No, I think I’ll just go to bed, it’s been a long day.” She gave her sister a tired smile, “Do you mind if I take a shower a little earlier in the morning? My shift starts at 6.”

“Go for it,” she called, “I’m gonna see if I can talk to the landlord tomorrow morning anyway.”

“Why?” Marta turned back towards her sister and Alice smirked while pointing towards the wall. 

“To see if we can get any information on our ghost.”

***

It was a little before 5 a.m. when Marta got up to take her shower and at this hour the world seemed to be dancing on the precipice of wakefulness; early morning workers like herself just beginning their day while most people were still asleep. There was the slight hum of dawn commotion outside as Marta prepared her uniform for work before stepping into the shower. 

It was quiet as she waited for the water to warm up, listening to the sharp patter of water hit the ceramic tub; so lost in her half conscious state was she, Marta almost forgot she had a new neighbor. That was until she could hear the jarring creak of the water being turned on in the mirrored apartment of said neighbor. Her heart skipped a beat at the sudden noise having grown accustomed to the silence that greeted her most mornings. There held a strange sort of intimacy to know while one lathered their hair there was a complete stranger on the other side of a very thin wall possibly doing the same. She tried to push the thought from her mind focusing on washing her hair. The showers in her apartment building only offered fifteen minutes of hot water before turning freezing cold and so Marta and Alice had planned out when each of them would take showers. It had become an unspoken routine for Marta to shower in the morning and Alice at night and while she hadn’t been particularly thrilled having to wake up so early, she had grown used to it and the feeling that accompanied the stillness of the chilly Boston mornings. 

It was an entirely different feeling to hear their new mystery patron begin to quietly sing, his voice reverberating through the walls of the apartment’s adjacent bathroom to join her morning routine. 

At first she hadn’t noticed, so quiet he was as he started the song. His voice never growing loud enough for her to make out the lyrics, but she could hear the gentle hum of his voice nonetheless. As she finished Marta listened in quiet bewilderment to the man next door as he reached the end of the song. The rest of her morning was filled with companionable silence. 

***

For the next several weeks this was how her morning routine went. She would wake up early before work and more often than not be accompanied by her mysterious neighbor’s serenades. As the days stretched on she listened as his voice grew in confidence until she could hear the words he sang. He wasn’t the greatest singer, in fact, she wouldn’t even call him a very good singer but there was something beautiful in his openness. 

Marta listened now as he sang one song that had featured regularly in their morning routine, she had no clue what it was from, but it sounded as if it was from a musical. 

“The thought of you stays bright!” 

His voice starting off high only to dip down fantastically and rumble out the last word in what was most certainly not a note he was accustomed to using. His tongue clicking and adding emphasis on the ’t’ of the last word. 

There was a peculiar sort of vulnerability in his song and Marta felt her skin start to prickle as she listened intently to the love song. He started off quietly then, growing in confidence, his voice took on a theatrical tint to it as if he was simultaneously performing for a room full of people yet singing only to himself. 

“Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor…” He began to bleed into an almost Sinatra like tone as he punctuated the vowels, drawing out the word floor. 

“Not going left…” A pause, “Not going right!” His voice beginning to crescendo, before cutting off suddenly. She heard a cursed expletive and there was a muffled fumble before the water was abruptly turned off and silence followed. She looked at the wall wondering what had happened before feeling it too. The water had turned freezing and she hastily hopped out of the tub wrapping a towel quickly around herself so as to fight off the chill morning air. 

A small laugh shivered out of her as she stared at herself in the mirror before getting around for work.

***

When Marta returned home that night, Alice had made dinner, or rather she had picked up pizza from the local shop a few blocks away. She slumped into her chair picking up a piece and chewing the lukewarm food. 

“Long day?” Alice asked.

“You could say that.” Marta sighed and recounted the story of an older man who had come in about a week ago with respiratory problems as well as a fever. He had been admitted by a family member and consequently left there. Marta had taken to visiting the elderly man as no one else had come to see him while his situation declined. She had come in today, checking his vitals and fixing his fluids when he had started to crash. Marta had done everything in her power to help the man, yet he passed away and she was left painfully reminded of her dear friend.

Alice’s brows furrowed in pain as tears welled in her sister’s eyes, knowing how hard it must have been for her. 

“I’m sorry, Marta.” She lamely offered, reaching out to hold her hand. There was silence as Alice allowed her sister a moment of grief.

“Anyway,” Marta swallowed, pushing the tears down and focusing on her sister, “how was your day?” 

Alice watched her for a moment before answering, seeing she didn’t want to linger on the subject. Her eyes flickered away from her sister a moment as she confessed, “I know you told me to leave the landlord alone,” She started, “and I did!” She amended at her sister’s sharp gaze.

The first meeting with their landlord having turned up nothing about their mysterious neighbor other than he was a kind gentleman who lived in the apartment by himself, Marta told her sister to drop the matter, it seemed Alice had other ideas.

“What did you do?” 

“I may or may not have checked our ghost’s mail to find out his name…”

“You did what?!” Alice quickly dodged her sister, dancing into the living room and picking up a throw pillow off the couch to protect herself. 

“I went to go get a package from the landlord today and there happened to be one next to it that had his apartment number and name on it.” She explained as Marta got up and followed her sister.

“Alice!” She sighed yet a smile twitched at the ends of her lips. If Alicia Cabrera wanted something, she was going to get it.

“It was an accident!” One hand thrown up in innocence while still clutching the pillow in the other. 

“You’re lucky you don’t share my same condition, because I know you’re lying right now!” Marta shook her head, “I can’t believe you!” A disbelieving laugh escaped her lips as they both sat on the couch. Alice opened a bag of Oreos she had left on the coffee table. She slid the box over to Marta who sat curled on the couch across from her sister.

“Don’t you wanna know what it is?” Alice whispered tauntingly and Marta admitted she had a nibbling feeling of curiosity to put a name to the voice she sometimes heard in the early morning. 

She clenched her jaw before finally conceding, “What is it?” 

“Benoit Blanc.” Alice smirked watching her sister’s reaction. 

Marta’s brows furrowed as she smiled, “Benoit Blanc?” She repeated as if tasting the name and deciding it was perfect. 

“I wonder if he’s French, maybe he’s got an accent!” Alice mused as she slid another cookie into her mouth and Marta shrugged as she thought of the name again letting the conversation slide to other things. Alice smiled as she watched her sister laugh, glad to have helped her feel better. 

***

The fourth morning of soundlessness had left Marta unsettled. There were no silent serenades or mumbled melodies as she shaved that morning. The eerie feeling of loneliness crept over her and made her feel cold despite the warmth of the water rushing over her. The quietness had crept under her skin and stayed the rest of the day. When she came home from her shift, a little earlier than normal Marta was surprised to see Alice and Trooper Wagner sitting on the couch watching some kind of thriller. When she walked through the door Alice jumped up and the man looked awkwardly around the room. 

“I’m sorry-“ She began.

“Marta! I thought you had a late shift tonight?” Alice started, “Noah and I were just watching a movie.” The officer waved nervously.

“I did, I wasn’t feeling well.” She said, throwing her keys on the table, “I’m sorry I interrupted your movie.” 

“It’s fine, are you ok?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She said waving off her sister’s concern to draw attention to the T.V. “That’s pretty loud, Alice, I don’t want you to bother the neighbors.” 

Her sister sat back with Noah as she paused the movie, “Relax he’s not here, I talked to the landlord who said he’s on a trip, I guess he asked her to hold his mail until he got back,” She stated waving away her sister’s concern. 

“Did you ask her about him again?” Marta asked incredulously. 

“No, the topic just steered around to it.” She pursed her lips, not truly believing the topic had “steered around to it”. Not with Alice’s manipulation of it at least. 

“She probably thinks you’re gonna break into his apartment.” 

“Most definitely.” Alice smirked before Noah cut in.

“Who’s your neighbor?” He asked, his eyes looking a little confused. 

“Just some guy-“

“His name’s Benoit Blanc, but we’ve never met him. Kind of a recluse.” Alice stated nonchalantly as she started the movie up again. 

“Your neighbor is Benoit Blanc?!” He asked, his eyes going wide. Both sister’s turned to him in confusion and the officer decided to enlighten them. 

“He’s only one of the best private detectives ever.” He pulled out his phone pulling up a man’s Facebook account and searching through the pictures until landing on one. Marta remembered the one man, dark skinned and kind eyes as the Lieutenant who helped her after Harlan’s passing. He stood next to another man, a little older with sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes. 

“Elliott met him once on a case out here a few years back.” He explained as he showed both girls the picture. 

“He’s kind of hot.” Alice stated, “like in a silver fox kinda way.” 

Both Trooper Wagner and Marta looked at her and Alice threw her hands up in mock innocence, “What?!” 

Marta laughed slightly at her sister as Noah clicked off his phone and put it back in his pocket. She grabbed her purse turning away from the couple on the couch as Alice assured him she found him attractive, and moved towards her room. 

She fell into bed, not bothering to change out of her clothes and soundlessly slept the rest of the night, blue eyes featuring in her muddled dreams. 

***

It had been about two weeks before her neighbor decided to make a reappearance and it was at the worst possible time. She had awoken and just stepped into the shower, preparing herself for the long day ahead when the words from his morning serenades entered her mind. There was silence on the other side of the wall and Alice had stayed the night at a friend’s house and so Marta began to sing quietly to herself in the morning’s silence. 

“The sun comes up, I think about you…” She sang quietly as she dragged her fingers through her hair. 

“The coffee cup, I think about you…”

She began to hum the next part, her mind forgetting the lyrics until the next three words, “- losing my mind…” 

Marta smiled at the ceiling as she rinsed her hair, she wasn’t a great singer and she didn’t sing very much if at all, but she had to admit there was a certain kind of freedom in it. She began a mixture of humming the words she couldn’t remember and singing the words she did as the water pelted down on her. 

“You said you loved me, or were you jus-“ Her voice broke off in fear as the familiar sound of the next door faucet being turned on rasped through the shower walls. Heat flooded her cheeks as embarrassment quickly crashed over her. 

“Shit.” The word tumbled out of her mouth.

She felt exposed standing in the shower as lukewarm water pelted her body. She hoped that maybe he hadn’t heard her, but that thought was quickly dashed as the rational part of her mind reminded her of how thin the walls were. She began to quickly rinse the conditioner from her hair wanting nothing more than to leave the bathroom as soon as possible. Her heart thumping in her chest as she mortifyingly remembered how loud she had become while singing. As she switched her shower off and began to step out, curling the towel around her body, she heard it; muffled and hesitant. 

“You said you loved me, or were you just being kind!” His voice grew louder, breaking into a crescendo that had been different from the other times she remembered. Marta listened and stared at the wall, it was as if he was singing just to her. 

“Or am I losing my mind?” He finished quietly yet just loud enough for her to hear. Her heart began to slow in its rapid pace as it returned to normal. That feeling she had missed in his absence crept back into the open space between them, but it was different now. Yes, he was back and he was singing again and maybe he had known how thin the walls were from the few times she had dropped her bottle of shampoo; but this felt different. And maybe, Marta realized as she began to dry off and dress for work, it wasn’t a bad thing.


End file.
